


The Simplicity of Inevitability

by Menirva



Series: Find A New Home [1]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Briefly mentioned past child abuse, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, M/M, Open Relationships, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Under-negotiated Kink, mention of frank/maria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 15:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menirva/pseuds/Menirva
Summary: Billy knew just what he liked and how he liked it. Men like Frank could look and drool over him all they wanted, but they weren't touching.‘Cept Frank wasn't looking, and maybe that pissed Billy off a bit.---Takes place as pre-canon divergence.





	The Simplicity of Inevitability

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags before choosing to read. This was written before season 2 came out, so no worries about spoilers. There is a possibility that this will become a series.

Billy knew he was a good looking guy. He had a nice cock. Taller than average, a little narrow. A girl had once told him it was as pretty as she’d thought it would be, and he hadn't known how to take that. But she'd smiled when she’d sucked him off, and seemed to have liked how he’d used it well enough, so he’d only thought to dwell on it later.

Billy Russo with the pretty face and pretty cock. Men like Frank didn't even phase him, didn't even show up on his radar back on home soil. He took his pussy with pretty red lips and gorgeous brown hair, with a tight ass to match, thanks very much. Men like Frank could look and drool over him all they wanted, but they weren't touching.

 ‘Cept Frank wasn't looking, and maybe that pissed Billy off a bit.

_"Slick boys like you don't impress me, Billy boy." Frank had been shooting the shit with him. ‘Don't Ask Don't Tell’ had just been repealed, and, well, people were asking and telling. And gossiping. Housewives had nothing on marine gossip._

_"But some guys do, huh?" Billy had flashed him a shiny white grin, relaxed and willing to egg Frank on._

_Frank's broad shoulders had pulled up into a slight shrug before he'd sent their football flying across the tent and into Billy's waiting arms._

_"Wait." Billy had taken that in and rubbed his palm a little over the ball before he sent it sailing back. "So why not? What gives?"_

_"What, you actually offended, pretty boy?" Frank was laughing, cracking a small grin, and that only increased when Billy sputtered out a no. He'd never minded when Frank called him 'pretty boy', Frank knew what he was capable of and treated Billy like a brother, but now Billy was here wondering for the first time if he got Frank pegged wrong, and if he should mind._

_"’Course not. Just wondering if the sun's blinding yah out here," he finally returned._

_"I got eyes. S'not looks, Bill."_

_"Yeah, what, then?"_

_"Ah, come on," Frank scoffed a little and set the ball down, "why we talking about this?"_

_"You embarrassed? Aw, Frankie, that's sweet—"_

“ _Alright, Alright. Fine, you asked," Frank cut him off and turned his focus onto Billy's eyes instead of their game of catch. "You're not my type, Billy, because it's not the looks. I don't give a shit about looks. I like strong men that break down into soft boys. Making them mind, and making them mine with a 'yes sir', maybe even a 'yes daddy', while I fuck them ’til they're crying for it. You done asking questions?"_

_Billy's breath exhaled sharply through his nose, but he kept his face a complete mask. Frank talked the piss with the rest of the guys, they all did, but he'd never heard him say anything quite as blunt or filthy as he just had. Maybe it wasn't just what he said, but the hard look Frank had given him with it, like maybe he saw a little more of Billy than Billy had ever wanted him or anyone else to see. Like there was something rough and feral there that Billy thought Frank only brought out during battle, but now he was starting to wonder._

_He recovered quickly and let out a low whistle, grinning as he gave a short shake of his head. "Jeeesus, Frankie, you got some issues, you know? That's some kinky shit. Maria know about that?"_

_"Oh yeah. My wife's always liked a show.” Frank was still flashing a small smile that, even with the current discussion, had that cloyingly proud, loving tone Frank got whenever he even mentioned the word ‘wife’._

_"Jesus, ain't you two a pair."_

_"Yeah, yeah, we are." Frank agreed, tone the same, but from the look in his eyes he was a thousand miles away and thinking about nothing but Maria's smile._

Billy dwelled on that intel way fucking longer than he ever should have. He didn't ask any more questions after that. He didn't need Frank thinking he was interested in that shit. He was just a little curious about this side of Frankie he hadn't had a fucking clue about.

 

Telling Billy what he had had been a calculated risk, something Frank knew a whole lot about. When to show a few cards, and went to hold them close to the chest. He knew Billy was full of pride. Had a lot of strut in him. Truth was, Billy was definitely his type, but he was pretty sure Billy didn't know that he was that type. It wasn't something that pretty face and glib attitude could hide. Frank recognized it the first time they shook hands. Those big, dark eyes Billy had were a void, his face was a mask. There was something lean and hungry in those long bones, and Frank knew he might like to rattle it loose.

He hadn't acted on it, though. War was war, and he'd rather have a brother in arms, someone he could trust, than he would risking spooking Russo away, distracting him from having his back. But they'd been together a long time now, the two of them, and as time passed they were getting even tighter. He could feel it. Sometimes he'd feel Billy's hungry eyes on him when he thought he wouldn't notice, and that's when he knew that Bill was noticing, too. After their little chit chat, Frank noticed it more. Billy's eyes on him, Billy leaning closer to him rather than towards others when they all sat beside each other being debriefed, the backs of their bloody knuckles bumping into each other. Billy managing to be changing just as he was entering their tent, and other little things that put himself casually on display. He probably thought he was being slick about it, and maybe for anyone else he was, but Frank knew how this worked, and he knew how Billy worked a lot more than the man thought he did. So he ignored him. Because if there was one thing he knew Billy couldn't stand, it was being ignored.

The more he didn't look, the more Billy started pushing it. Frank wondered if he even realized half the shit he was doing. Billy was never reckless, it was never obvious in front of the other men, but when they were alone, his spoon was sucked off slowly between his lips with every bite of the shitty food they'd been given. He'd come back from whatever shower they'd been allowed that day still only on his towel and taking his time to slowly rub a handful of coconut oil over his body (the only moisturizer he could find that didn't go rancid and break down with the constant heat) and through his damp hair.

God damn Frank almost wanted to laugh. It was kind of cute, but he'd never say it. Billy didn't need to hear that. Billy wasn't the kind of man you let seduce you, because Frank had no doubt Billy would leave him high and dry before anything happened, just to prove he could. To prove that he was Frank's type but Frank didn't have to be his. That wouldn't get either of them where they really wanted to be going, even if Billy didn't really know exactly where that was. Not yet. No, Frank could wait and find the right opening for them both.

The right day found them. They'd been on a march that morning, no good reason other than the higher ups wanted to make them sweat, make sure they weren't getting too comfortable. Frank hated that shit, and he knew Billy did, too. They were here to serve and protect their country, not to ask 'how high' just because some prick told them to jump because he could. By the time everyone got back to base, they were exhausted, and that was when Billy and a couple other guys on his team had been sent off suddenly for special assignment. Frank had wanted to help, but was told to fuck back to the camp for R&R. Something wasn't right about it, but he couldn't argue, and he knew Bill wouldn't want him to. He sent the rest of his men out instead, a little act of rebellion he knew he could get away with. Told them to go clean up and take the rest of the day for themselves in the nearest town, if he caught them back at camp or the tents, he'd kick their asses himself.

Billy came back covered in sand and blood. Frank had been plucking on his guitar, but it was set down beside him quickly when he caught sight of him. "Jesus, what happened to you?"

"Need to know basis only." Billy spat out the words like they were acid on his tongue, but Frank knew it wasn't for him. Bill looked exhausted and pent up at the same time, rubbing his bloody hands uselessly on his soaked uniform. His body was twitching hard as he grabbed for the towel he kept by his cot and tried again.

"Hey, hey. Where's Martin and Dougie?" Frank stood up, closing the short distance between them.

"Yer looking at uhm all over my hand's, Frank!" Billy snapped out, swearing and throwing the ruined towel down. "They barely got outta there alive. In the med tent, now, but ole Dougie? he's done. Best case scenario, he ain't ever standing again, that's for damn sure. And for what? God damn, I'm just so fucking sick of this shit. You know that, Frankie? We do this god damn fight, day in day out. I don't even want the thanks, don't give a shit about the thanks. I know the score. I know every time we go out there there's a chance we don't come back, but I just want a god damn break sometimes. I just want to not think about that sometimes."

Frank knew about that better than anyone, but he'd never seen Bill express it, before. Bill always played that close to the chest. Played everything off with that pretty smile and glib attitude like he would take it to his grave before he shared it with anyone, but here he was now sharing it with Frank, and Frank knew a chink in armor when he saw one. He knew when he was being given something, and he wasn't going to let them both down by not striking.

"Come on, Bill. We're gonna go get you cleaned up." Frank's hand wasn't shrugged off when it touched down on the stained uniform covering Billy's shoulder. He let Frank lead him.

 

Billy couldn't even remember the walk to the showers. Point A to Point B might as well have never existed. Did anyone see Frank guiding him to the shower like some lost, wounded puppy dog? Did he even fucking care anymore? He'd gotten out of the fight alive, again, but it felt like every battle was costing him a little more each time. He hated that feeling of blood drying on his hands, sticky and flaking, especially when it was from someone he knew. His mind easily brought back the sensation of Dougie's blood bubbling up between his fingers as he compressed his hands down as hard as he could on his thigh to stem the flow.

There was hot water spraying down over him suddenly, startling him out of his trance and making his hands fly up to attack. "Hey, easy, easy." Frank's voice was close to his ear. He'd undressed him, undressed them both, and somehow Billy had been too fucking lost in himself to notice.

"Just getting you clean, Bill."

"We're never clean, Frankie." His voice was low as he stared at the wall and the water running down it. There was too much sand and blood on his skin, now. Not matter how much he scrubbed, he could still feel that dry grit whenever he rubbed oil onto his skin.

"I know, Bill. Let me get you as close as I can."

"Yeah. Yeah, ok."

 

Bill's voice was so quiet Frank could barely hear it above the spray. He kept his touch light as he grabbed some soap and lathered it between his hands. He rubbed over Billy's lean body until red started to turn into pink suds, until he heard him sigh and shudder a little, shoulders dropping down, the tightness there easing.

 

"I've got you, brother," Frank promised quietly, and Billy let himself believe that for just a minute. Frank's hands had no business, they had no goddamn business feeling so gentle. He'd seen those hands, seen those callouses, and seen them choke the life out of another man, seen them bloody, knuckles broken open. How the hell did they feel like this right now, dragging over his skin and making him clean?

When they were covering his own hands, softly working each digit over with soap, not letting a speck of sand or blood remain, Billy felt like something inside of his chest was cracking open. He was wounded and raw and he could feel it in his own voice when he spoke. "God damn it, Frankie. It's not even the worst of it. All I could think of out there was how pissed I was you weren't there with me... and how fucking glad I was for it, too. I mean god damn, we haven't even. We're not, you're not—"

 

"Hush, hush." Frank soothed him quietly, still working on his hands. By now, he had Bill's back pressed against his chest. The man was tall, but right now he felt small and fragile against him, and Frank spent half a second trying to figure out the right move. How much was what they both wanted, and how much would be him taking advantage of the trust Billy was putting in him. "Look, Bill," he finally murmured, helping him hold his soapy hands up to the shower faucet to rinse. "You wanna say no, you say no... but I know we both need something right now, know you need something, now, that I want to give. Doesn't mean you aren't strong, still my brother and the best god damn marine I've ever seen, but we all need something different than a fight, sometimes, don't we?"

 

Billy stared down at his clean hands when they were lowered down. Maybe sometimes they did.

"Promise me, Frank."

"What do you need me to promise you, Billy?"

"That I'm not gonna be thinking of anything else."

 

"That I can promise. That I can do." Frank had grabbed his own towel and used it on Billy first, brushed the hair that was clinging to him off of his forehead and dried himself off as well as he could before he got them back to the tent, towel wrapped around Billy's waist and Frank not giving a shit who might see his bare ass in the short distance back to the tent.

Billy's eyes flicked around the tent a little, wary.

"Just us, Bill. All the guys are out for hours, and you know those assholes up high aren't gonna come in here, too damn busy celebrating over whatever victory they think they got."

They both knew Frank was right, and the truth seemed to calm Billy down. He sat down on the edge of his cot, casting his dark eyes up at Frank. The walk to the tent had given him time to seal over a little of what Frank had seen in the shower, but not enough. He acted fast, a high risk maneuver. "Come on, Billy. Lay down for daddy."

Billy's body jerked a little in surprise and his face turned up more. "If you think I'm some—"

"Hush.” Frank cut him off firmly, the type of tone that said he meant business with a capital B, and you were going to listen. "I said lay down. Daddy's gonna take care of you, Billy. You just have to trust me to do it."

"Bullshit," Billy muttered, but his tone was subdued, reigned in. When he laid down bared on the cot, he was tense still, belly dipping when Frank's hand went to rest on his bare, damp skin.

"I've got you, I've got you, Billy," Frank murmured, and ran his hands down his stomach, over his thighs. Billy was clearly surprised when he didn't go right for his dick. It was tempting, laying there all pretty against his thigh, and starting to get just a little plump, Billy's mind clearly supplying it ideas of what might be about to happen. But Frank had promised more than a quick handjob, and he wasn't going to let either of them down.

 

"You just relax, just us two here, nothing else in the world matters right now." Frank's voice was a barely there hum, and Billy could feel it gliding over his skin. Those hands and that voice didn't stop until Billy could feel his body starting to relax onto the cot. If Frankie was looking to put him to sleep, he was well on his way, and for half a second he entertained the idea that maybe that was what he'd meant to do. That thought was pretty much obliterated when he felt Frank's hands start to rub over his chest.

His touch was starting to change, slowly, when he got there. Lighter, teasing, almost ticklish. When Frank skimmed over his belly and chest, it made Billy want to squirm a little, and when Frank's thumb and finger plucked over one of his nipples, he was surprised at the groan in his own throat. Frank had worked his body up to a gentle simmer of arousal without him even fully realizing.

"There we go, Billy." When Bill cracked an eye open to face Frank, he could see a slight smile on his face. It wasn't mocking, not by a long shot, and that helped. He started to close his eyes again, but Frank squeezed his hip. "Eyes on me, Bill. Where do you keep that coconut oil?"

"S'under my cot. Why, you wanna rub me down?" Billy managed to crack a small smile.

"Somethin’ like that."

Billy wasn't an idiot. He knew exactly what Frank planned on doing with that oil. He knew he could stop him, too. Tell him to fuck off, and he would, knew Frank would never even try if he told him no. So why didn't he? Other men had tried, more when he was younger. He still had the scar on his shoulder as a reminder of what a man wanting you could do. But not a man like Frank. When Frank knelt at the end of the cot, Billy could see the jar beside him, could hear the familiar sound of the cap unscrewing.

How was he ever gonna not associate that sound with Frank getting ready to fuck him? Because he was going to let him fuck him. He already knew that. He almost couldn't believe he was. Had never even crossed his mind before with any other man. God damn, Frank Castle had gotten under his skin, and now he was letting him spread his legs apart on that shitty little cot. He was watching him pour some oil into his hand.

 

"I've got you Billy, daddy's got you," Frank murmured when he rubbed his oiled thumb against Billy's hole, watched it twitch under his touch. He took his time, any job worth doing was worth doing right. He listened to Billy's quick breathing, could tell he was feeling good and he was glad for that, wanted him feeling good. "Going in a little, Bill," he told him, didn't want to spook him.

"Easy, easy..." he coaxed as he pressed his slick finger inside, felt Billy's body clench hard around him until he eased up.

"Oh Jesus, Frankie," Billy drawled out slowly. Frank almost told him how cute he looked with his brows furrowed hard, body confused over whether it was liking first one then two of Frank's fingers knuckle deep in his ass or not. Almost, but he didn't want a kick to his face over it, not now. Billy had to be played with carefully, and Frank knew that. He deserved that.

"I know, Billy, I know. It's a lot, but you're taking them good for me, being a real good boy for daddy."

 

"Jesus—fuck you with that." Billy gasped out suddenly, twisting on the cot when Frank's fingers pressed just right and the world went white for a second, hot, heady pleasure making a sweat break over his skin. "Jesus—"

 

"Yeah that's nice isn't it?" Frank hummed out, that smile still on his lips. "Think you like it though, Billy. That's ok. It's ok to like that," he encouraged him. "Daddy's got you. You know I'm gonna take care of you. Gonna make sure you fucking love this, Billy," Frank promised, watching him twitch on his fingers.

“Just stop talkin’ and do that again.”

 

"Nah, Daddy's got something else for you if you'll take it." Billy wanted to snort, but he couldn't quite manage it. Frank's fingers kept touching over his prostate, fucking him with just those two fingers, and he already felt like he was dying over it.

"You ready, Billy?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Billy managed to gasp out. Billy's breath hitched sharply, and he bit into his bottom lip. Frank's dick burned going in, oh god his brain didn't know what to do with any of the signals his body was screaming at it. Burn, stretched, full. _F_ _ull_. Sex wasn't supposed to feel like this. It was some sweating, some pleasure, and you were done with a 'thanks for the good time, ma'am’.

This was Frank over him, heavy and warm. It was rough hands touching over his chest, soft, soothing noises in response to the whine he just couldn't keep out of his throat. Billy knew the logistics, but he was in no way prepared for what the first thrust inside of him felt like. Wasn't prepared for it to feel like Frank was sliding home inside of him. Wasn't prepared for the rest of the world to feel like it was melting away. That smooth rock of Frank's hips was something unholy and perfect, and his own hips were being guided up so that, on his next push, Billy jolted and cried out under him, the sudden shock of pleasure too much for his body to keep still or even fucking quiet for. "Oh shit—"

Frank cut him off with a rumble of a laugh, affectionate and warm. His hips were still moving, Billy could feel his eyes on him, watching him while he fucked him open like it was the most important mission he'd ever had.

"I know, I know, that's it. That's where we're at. You don't need anything else. Just need daddy hammering away right here, don't you, Billy boy? Shh, shh." Frank’s tone was soothing, his palm coated with sweat when he caressed down Billy's overheated chest. Pink all over and twice as pretty.

"I know. I know. I know what you need, Billy, and don't you worry. Daddy's gonna give you what you need, gonna make it so easy. You'll see."

"I can't, oh my god, Frankie!" Billy sobbed out, lips parted as he gasped for air. Feeling Frank bottoming out inside of him again and again, feeling completely full and completely fucked, it was too damn much. He'd never felt more ashamed, never felt more taken care of than when Frank's heavy, rough hand caressed down his chest.

"Daddy knows you can, Billy boy. Don't worry. I know you aren't gonna say it, not today. I told you I was gonna make it easy for you. You don't gotta say it, but we're both gonna know it, aren't we?"

 

Billy grit his teeth and Frank knew he was struggling hard. Against Frank, against himself. Strong man. Frank had never doubted. If he had, he wouldn't be here. Frank wouldn't be listening to Billy gasp and watching his cock bubble up with a heavy line of precome. Wouldn't see it dribbling down to join the puddle already pooling in his navel. What he didn't hear was Billy refuting it. Those pretty lips were parted now as Bill got more and more worked up, but they sure as hell weren't arguing.

"Yeah.... yeah we're both gonna know it, know who daddy is, Billy boy," Frank murmured quietly, so damn sure of himself.

"Frankie, Frankie, Jesus—" Billy finally got his wits about him to run his mouth, but then he lost them just as fast when Frank's cock hit just right again and the shock of pleasure had his toes curling and his strong hands grabbing tight onto the meat of Frank's biceps.

"Come on, Billy. You're right there," Frank coaxed, voice rough as gravel and dangerous as a viper. One strike and Billy was poisoned forever. Wasn't ever gonna not feel it in his veins.

 

"You're right there, Bill. Can see it. Just let go, give it up for daddy." Frank could feel the ache in his own back. He was still worn out from marching all morning, it was hot as hell in that stuffy little tent, but he didn't give a shit about any of that. Billy was so fucking hot and wet around him. He kept himself deep, his own eyes locked onto Bill's when his gaze finally met his. Not empty, not right now. There was a ravenous hunger there he was feeding, and they both knew it. Billy was letting himself show it. Frank was the one greedily watching it. Watching him shake apart on his cock, Billy's own neglected dick twitching hard and spurting a few thick ropes of come nearly far enough to hit his throat.

 

Billy was all sharp angles when he came, his long body an arch of pleasure, teeth bared as he shuddered through it, nothing on his lips but a sharp whine. There was blood thundering past his eardrums, blocking off the rest of the world, but he could still hear Frank's rumble over it. He could feel the man go stiffer over him. Felt suddenly a little fuller inside with what he could only imagine was Frank's come as the man praised him.

 

"Oh attaboy, attaboy. It wasn't even hard, was it, Bill? Felt as natural as breathing, coming all over my cock, didn't it?" Frank watched as Billy drew in a ragged breath, and he rubbed his hand over the mess of come streaking over his chest. "Good boy. Good man."

He didn't say anything else after that. Frank knew when to hold his tongue. When he slipped free from Billy's abused little hole, he couldn't help but admire it. He watched his come sluggishly drip down from that puffy ring of pink. Billy's long legs splayed out, all of the fight out of him. The events of the day far away for a little while where they couldn't touch him. Frank just couldn't resist that. Not that dazed look on Billy's face, not that pretty little display. Before he knew it he was dropping onto his knees in front of the cot, pressing his sun chapped lips over Billy's sensitive skin.

Billy jerked like a live wire under the unexpected, far too intimate touch. "God, Frankie, what are you—"

"Shh, shh, not done, Bill. Not done. Not done taking care of you" His hot breath fanned over Billy's hole and Frank saw the faint tremor in his spread thighs. His come and the coconut oil they'd used tasted bitter and heavy on his own tongue as he cleaned him up and out.

It took a few minutes, a quiet uncertain whine, but there was no mistaking when Billy's hips started to rise and curl into the press of his tongue. Frank groaned a little, rewarding him with the vibration sent from his lips to his hypersensitive skin, juxtaposing it with the scrape of his stubble when his chin rubbed his thighs. He gave him one last filthy kiss there, all tongue before he wiped his mouth and rubbed some life back into Billy's thighs, wiping the drying come off Billy's chest with an old t-shirt.

"Attaboy, all cleaned up for daddy, now."

 

Billy didn't feel clean. But maybe he didn't feel so dirty either. Fuck did he feel sore through. His eyes had closed and his face had just started to recover from going a little red from when Frank had lost his damn mind and decided to eat him out like he had a god damn pussy or something. Fuck, he was still tingling from it, though. His whole body felt too raw, like he'd been ripped open. He wanted to shove Frank away as much as he wanted to grab onto him and not be alone, not when he'd been made to show so much of himself. He didn't have to make that choice, though. Frank shoved him onto his side. The cot was way too fucking small for this, way too small for Frank to manhandle him so they were laying side by side.

"Hey, look at me."

"I don't gotta look at you."

"Look at me, Billy."

 

Frank watched Billy's eyes flutter open slowly, the look on his face half back to the mask he always wore, part uncertainty, part ready to be flippant and defiant. Frank didn't want that back so fast so he pulled a cheap and dirty trick. He leaned in even closer and gave Billy's forehead a gentle kiss, a double attack when he went right for the bridge of his nose next. When he spoke, his hand was right on Billy's cheek, feeling how his jaw worked uncertainly.

"You're ok, Billy. We're ok. Let's just have this for a few minutes longer. Take a little breather and forget all that shit out there for a little while more, huh? Just you and me, right here. Just you and daddy, and I'm still gonna take care of you."

Frank felt Billy's reforming defenses crumble as much as he saw them. Saw Billy's eyes close shut again. His hand came up to cup over Frank's, soft but strong as he held him there, clearly not wanting him to let go.

"Yeah. Alright."

Those two quiet words were more of a verbal agreement than Frank had been expecting, but he took them to heart. He was beat himself, and he knew no one would come sniffing around them for a while. He rubbed Billy's cheek for a while, just listened to the man's breathing evening out. When he had fallen asleep, he squeezed him closer and gave in to the urge to press an affectionate kiss to the top of his silky black hair.

"My boy."

 

**Author's Note:**

> http://relevantlyirreverent.tumblr.com/


End file.
